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“Well, they have been on your mind lately,” he says, his tone soft and gentle.
I meet his gaze. “I haven’t dreamed since becoming a vampire. Have you?”
He blinks, then slowly shakes his head. “Not once. And I’ve never heard of any other vampires dreaming, either.”
“Then…why? Why would I be the only vampire in existence to dream?” I ask, panic making the words short and choppy.
“Maybe it’s your witch’s blood. You’re the only hybrid in existence, so we have nothing to compare you to.”
“But…if that were the case, wouldn’t I have dreamed before now? I’ve been a vampire for a while, and this isn’t the first time I’ve slept.”
“I don’t know, Eden,” he says gently. “We’re figuring this all out, together, navigating your unique path the best we can.”
I shake my head. “I know. I’m sorry. But, Jesse, it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real.”
He cocks his head. “Do you think it was a vision?”
My hand automatically flies to my chest, finding it empty, as I expected. I’m not wearing the necklace. It’s safely tucked away in my nightstand. Sensing my thoughts, Jesse reaches over to pull my hand away from my chest, weaving his fingers through mine.
“Maybe you don’t need it to trigger them, anymore.”
“What?” I ask. “Of course, I do. The pendant causes them.”
“What if,” he asks gently, “the pendant was only a…focal point, of sorts? What if the power was inside you all along, but you just needed a magical object to bring it into focus?”
I nod slightly even though I’m not totally buying it. I feel the power in the pendant when I wear it. When it throws me into a vision.
But what other explanation is there for what just happened? It wasn’t a dream. I can feel that absolute truth in my bones. My mind didn’t conjure up some image of my parents I’ve only ever seen in pictures. They looked to be in their mid-forties, the age they would’ve been when they adopted me as a baby.
But they didn’t adopt me, did they? I’m their biological child, and in the vision of my birth, they were in their twenties. They used magic to make themselves appear older.
I stiffen as my mind takes me down a deep rabbit hole, and thankfully, Jesse remains quiet and still as he watches me work through my chaotic thoughts.
If they were actually in their twenties when I was born, that would make them late-forties, early-fifties now…if they hadn’t died. Just as they appeared to me a few moments ago while I was asleep.
Oh, shit.
“Jesse.”
“What is it, my love?”
“When I asked you about ghosts last night, I was thinking of Steph’s family, but what if I was wrong? I mean, what if I was partially wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
I swallow thickly before clearing my throat. Pushing away the fear that he’ll think I’ve lost my mind, I beg him with my eyes to trust me. To believe me.
“I think ghosts are real, and the spirits of my parents are trying to guide me. To protect me. Something, or someone, stopped me from asking about the prophecy at that council meeting. And now I’m dreaming––when vampires don’t dream––about my parents, who look the exact age they’d be if they were still alive. Mom was trying to warn me about something. She said I have to stop.”
“Stop what?” he asks as if he believes me, as if I’m not spouting utter nonsense.
“I don’t know,” I mutter with a shake of my head. “I woke up before she could get the rest out.”
Jesse searches my gaze, and I don’t see even a trace of skepticism or doubt in his eyes. My muscles relax one by one, and I settle into the warmth of his trust and love.
He believes me.
Or at the very least, believes that I believe what I’m saying.
